Midway through the afternoon, we crest a hill and reach a shallow overlook. In the valley below, the silver curve of a river gleams. According to the fisherman’s wife, a river monster lives there, though it’s hard to imagine from up here. It seems so peaceful.
I get yet another skill bump for the hike.
Skill Proficiency Increased:
Hiking 5
Three points in one day. Not bad.
With any luck, we’ll be in the town and sitting pretty at a pub within the hour. I sigh with relief. We’re almost there.
Physically, I’m fine. I’m just bored - which is saying something. Even without the fog, there’s still the possibility of a lurking enemy: a wolf idling in a shrubbery, a spirit or fairy restless beneath the ground. But I’m not as apprehensive about that possibility as I once was. As it turns out, we can manage a fight just fine. Either that or four hours of vigilance just makes a person turn zen.
I’m just not an outdoorsy person, and I’ve quite literally never walked this long in my life. Is this how adventurers usually feel between all the good stuff?
Anyway, it’s comforting to know that we can handle ourselves and our new abilities. I wasn’t sure how we would do in our first fight. Our previous battle left us in shambles. Elias ended up in an alien hospital, Luci was in shock, I was riddled with guilt and anxiety - although that’s largely par for the course. Even Ron was somewhat speechless.
Then we botched our first regional choice and our first NPC encounter. It only seemed fair we’d screw up our first fight too. And yet, where before a single Level 10 elite nearly destroyed us, now two Level 10 enemies lie defeated in our wake. Sure, Luci nailed Ron in the shoulder, Ron almost got his throat torn out, I managed to bleed my stamina down to nearly zero, and I’m pretty sure Elias’ leg is giving him trouble he won’t ever mention himself. But we did it. It’s hard not to be proud.
Plus, I’m Level 9, baby! I throw another three points into my dexterity attribute, giving me a clean thirty and adding yet another three points of proficiency to all related skills. Next time, I’ll probably put my attribute points in resolve. It’d be nice to know that a single wolf chomp won’t put me in the grave.
For now though, dexterity it is. With every new burst of points, I feel invigorated. Alive. I’m more agile, more nimble. My limbs and fingers move as though I’ve never known how to move them before. I’m one with the ground. I’m one with the air. I’m addicted.
I can see it in Luci too, the way she dances and sways down the road. Even Elias, bolstered with new strength, struts with a warrior’s confidence, despite the subtle limp. I remember just yesterday how he held the fire axe. It was like he took offense to its mere touch. Now, he hasn’t resheathed his weapon. It’s in his fist, firm and true, like it belongs there. To think that yesterday morning, he was just a simple accountant.
Ron, again, is Ron. Which is to say, unabashedly lumbering. Unchanging, both in mind and body. I’m curious how he got to his age without any inklings of pessimism. To be fair, I haven’t hung out with any adults of the Gen X persuasion. Maybe they’re all like this.
Strange to think the apocalypse would bring us together. Strange to think this is an apocalypse at all. Here we are, fighting for our survival, and it feels ten times more liveable than life after Ethan ever did.
Here I am, love, living without you. Just took the end of the world for me to get there.
Speaking of which, the view is beautiful. Just miles and miles of undulating slopes blanketed in verdant green. The river cuts across the valley, slithering into the hills and away from view. It’s not too wide, but the current is swift and frequently breaks over jagged rocks.
The grass sways as an eastern wind rips across the hilltops. Where we’re standing, the wind is actually rather cold, a steady gale nipping at my skin. I try to tug my jacket closer, trying to stave off the chill, but it’s pointless. It’s a very cute jacket. Nice and tight-fitting. Not at all a comfort in the wind. Thankfully, it looks like the wind calms down once we’re in the valley.
“Oh, it’s so pretty!” says Luci through chattering teeth. She’s trying desperately not to show it, but there are visible goosebumps on her arms.
Elias squints. “Is that the river? Do you see the bridge?”
“Not yet. Tío, it’s like Río Yaqui. Remember when Papa took us? We went kayaking and Abuela had a total meltdown. She thought I was too young.”
“She was just worried about you, chispita.”
“Story of my life,” she scoffs.
I laugh.
Elias cuts me off with a shush. At first I think he’s offended, but his eyes narrow as he stares off the side of the road. “Did you see that?”
“See what?” I look to my right where there’s a pair of trees, then to my left where there’s nothing at all.
“We used to visit my abuela all the time, especially when we lived in Arizona,” continues Luci, happily leading the way. “She lived in Hermosillo which is a beautiful city in Mexico.”
“Whoa, man, you lived in Arizona?” asks Ron. “Farthest I’ve been is Ohio.”
“‘Til I was 8. But my dad got a job in Chicago so we moved. Abuela died before that, so we didn’t have any more relatives in Mexico. Not anyone close. A few cousins I’ve met like once. I was mad at first, but I like the city. Liked,” she amends. “The weather was total trash though. Hey, Ron, what’s the best thing about the seasons in Chicago?”
“Don’t know, button. What’s the best thing about the seasons in Chicago?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“You can binge all of ‘em in one day.”
“Niiice,” he replies, giving her a fist bump.
“Oh I got one,” I say. “You know, they say there’s only two seasons in Chicago.”
“Yeah?”
“Winter and construction.”
Ron laughs. “Tell me about it.”
Again, Elias stops short. “Luci, don’t move.”
“Ugh, what now?” she groans.
“Something is following us.”
Twirling around, she makes a show of surveying the area. “I don’t see anything. Are you sure it’s not, like, a bird?”
“Luci, be serious.”
Technically, she’s supposed to be the one with the observation skills, but I suppose that only counts if she actually wants to pay attention.
“Hey I don’t see a river monster! You see a river monster?” Ron chimes. “I’m hoping it’s Big Bessie.”
“Big Nessie,” corrects Luci. “Big Bessie’s a cow.”
“Aw really? Oh, what about the Loch Ness monster?”
“That is Big Nessie!” she giggles.
Just then, Elias lurches in front of us, a finger to his lips. “It’s here.”
He juts his chin toward a tangle of leaves and white flowers just a few yards behind us. The wind flutters across the brim of the bushes. Then, movement flashes.
Both hands snap to my daggers as I take a step back. Luci unlatches her bow.
We all stand still. It’s likely another wolf, though the sight of pale white petals makes my stomach churn. Damn vines and their dumb flowers.
“Who’s there?” barks Elias.
“It’s the river monster!” Ron booms.
The bushes jiggle. “I’d have to be a right wee monster,” they say.
So, not a wolf.
The blade of Elias’ battleaxe gleams in the light. “Come out.”
“Mary and Joseph, I’m a friend, I’m a friend.” Two hands peek through the leaves, then a pair of slender arms. Finally a boy, not much older than Luci but maybe half a foot taller, emerges.
Éogan - Boy (Lv 5)
Huh, a Level 5. Honestly, I’m not surprised he’s a higher level than the fisherman. While the kid is lean, I’ve never seen any so toned. Not in person, anyway. There was once some TikTok of a preteen who could do 100 pull-ups. That’s him. Just skin, bone, and muscle. His face has a little bit of meat to it, so he’s not starving. Splotches of dirt mar his skin and sleeveless tunic. Maybe he’s a farmhand or… whatever else medieval Irish kids do.
He lowers the hood of his mantle, revealing tousled blonde hair, deep-set eyes, and a smug expression that screams trouble. At the same time, I notice Luci straightening her posture and tossing her braid over her shoulder. Oh, to be a preteen again.
Elias doesn’t relax. “What were you doing?”
The boy lifts his chin in clear defiance of the axe, bow, and daggers facing him. “Looking for you lot. Or at least someone your type.” He looks us up and down, his eyes briefly skimming over Elias’ prosthetic before lingering on Luci’s midriff. I can almost hear her uncle’s teeth grinding. “Well, maybe not exactly your type.”
“Excuse me,” scowls Luci. Idling behind her uncle, she snaps her bow back into place and sets her hands on her hips - in anger or to show off her abs, I’m not sure. Maybe both.
The boy smirks. “You’re heading across the river then?”
“We might be,” Elias answers. He hoists his axe and palms it in both hands like a cop with a baton. The boy doesn’t react.
“Well if you’re not, then I’m not sure where else it is you plan on going away to. Across the river’s all there is from here. Especially if you’re aimin’ for town.” His eyes flick to Luci’s bracelet, our only ticket into Glasbaile.
“You’re trying to sneak your way in!” Luci says.
He snickers. “If I couldn’t get in to the bleedin’ town, would I be goin’ that direction?”
“Fine. So why are you following us?”
“I wanted some company.”
“Then why hide in the bushes?” Elias questions, twisting the axe in his hands.
“The road’s dangerous. Bushes are right itchy though.”
Luci snorts. “Seems like a personal problem.”
“Guys, stop grilling him,” I interrupt. Turning my back to the kid, I lower my voice. “He’s a game character, remember? He’s probably got an escort quest to Glasbaile. Let’s just ask if he wants to tag along, alright?”
Elias huffs. “I don’t trust him.”
“Me neither,” Luci agrees.
“You don’t have to. He’s a Level 5.” I look past them at Ron. “What about you?”
The big guy gives a thumbs up before returning to his own little activity, which is apparently cooing at a snail scooching along the back of his hand.
“You might like to know the bridge is out,” the boy calls. He saunters forward, squishing the flowers beneath his boots, as he strides onto the road. “I know where the river’s current is weakest. If it interests you.”
“And, in exchange, you want to come with us to town?” I ask.
“I’d rather not make a go of it myself, sure.”
Time to make an executive decision. “Alright then. Show us the way and you can come with.”
He grins. “Deal. I’m Éogan, by the by.” He pronounces it like ‘Oh-un.’ Shows what I know about Gaelic.
“I’m Helen. This is Luci, Elias, and Ron.”
“As you wish,” he replies, an eyebrow raised. He clearly thinks I’m making them up. “Right, well, not much farther to the river. Come on now.”
New Quest! OVER THE RIVER
A young man of unknown origin wishes to reach the town of Glasbaile.
Objectives:
- Escort Éogan to Glasbaile: In Progress
Reward: XP, Uncommon Weapon
You have obtained a quest. This quest is no longer available to other parties. (2) quests are in progress by your party. (5) quests remain.
I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told them so.
With our quest giver leading the pack, we continue down the road, albeit quieter than before. Luci stops gabbing, suddenly self-conscious, and her uncle continues to stare daggers into the boy’s back. I’m not sure whether he’s playing the overprotective father figure or he just hates change. The man is as inflexible as expired cheese.
As we descend into the valley, the boy putters down the road in front of us, whistling to himself. The only weapon he’s got is a small knife sheathed to the cinch around his waist. If, for some reason, we chose to fight him, he wouldn’t have a chance in hell of hurting us. He doesn’t seem worried about the possibility though.
Soon, the road curves into the valley’s base. The wind settles. It’s eerily still. The only sound, the only movement is the river, like the earth and sky are subservient to its whims.
Even without the wind, the air is still bitter and cold. The valley is flat and open to the elements. There are no trees, no flowers, no insects, no birds.
The nearer we get to the river, the deader it becomes. Not just quiet. Dead. Large patches of grass have withered and browned. An overturned cart lies chewed and moldy beside the road. There are no signs of a monster, but my skin prickles at the silence nonetheless.